


Precipice

by Talan (soracia)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abstract, Angst, Dark, Depression, Gen, Introspection, Weirdness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-11-16
Updated: 2002-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-24 09:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/261788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soracia/pseuds/Talan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I am stretched, torn between opposing forces; secure in the place where I lie, yet soon my own weight will take me down past any hope of rescue.</p><p><i>But I could just let go...</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Precipice

**Author's Note:**

> this was, eh, a sort of stream of consciousness thing I wrote awhile back, and I wasn't even actually that depressed at the time, but it certainly reflects my mood at other times. not referring to literal suicide, actually, but just giving in to a mental and emotional breakdown. Italics/non-italics represent different sides of mental conflict.

_Darkness. Fear. I am falling._

I lean over the edge and watch myself fall, into the smoldering pit, to the unknown, into terror.

 _I look up as I fall, meeting my eyes, my horror reflected there._

Hopeless, helpless--yet from above I extend my hand, a gesture of despair.

 _Falling, I see the outstretched hand, almost out of reach. Too little, too late, perhaps, and yet...It is all I have. At the last moment I fling up my arms, straining to reach my anchor._

My hand touches, grabbing me blindly as the only hope, the only thing I can find to hold on to, but threatening to drag me too from my stable ground.

 _I cling desperately to the hand I have managed to grasp, just barely hanging on. I hang suspended, still about to fall, if I cannot pull myself to safety._

I am stretched, torn between opposing forces; secure in the place where I lie, yet soon my own weight will take me down past any hope of rescue.

 _But I could just let go...With an effort, holding tightly to both myself and my security, I strain against the inexorable, and slowly drag myself back up out of the endless darkness._

I lay exhausted on the ground, on the safe ground again, and wonder why. Why does it always come to this? Why is it always at the last moment I decide to save myself? Will I always depend upon that part of me that passes judgment on myself?

 _I wonder why it always comes to this. I must save that part of me that I despise, that I wish I could live without...Next time, maybe--I'll let myself fall._


End file.
